Friends, Cops & Robbers
by TriStateCopFan
Summary: The NYPD deals with a bank robbery in downtown Manhattan. STORY COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

1**A/N: I own none of the LO:CI characters, but thank Mr. Wolf for sharing. Lt. Bill Kowalski belongs to me.**

**Friends, Cops and Robbers**

Friday, 12:20 p.m.

The Deakins' House

Captain James Deakins pulled into the driveway of his split-level Brooklyn home. As usual, he was running late and in a rush. He had worked half the day and was now back home to finish packing his suitcase. His car to JFK was due to arrive in ten minutes; his flight to Las Vegas was due to depart at 2:20 p.m. It would be his second time attending the Police Convention and this year's was sure to be fun, with his good buddies, Capt. Don Cragen and Lt. Bill Kowalski making the trip, as well.

Kathy Deakins had heard her husband's car screech into the driveway and opened the front door to greet him, shaking her head and with a smile.

He bounded up the stairs and gave his wife a quick smile, leaning in to kiss her 'hello.' "I got tied up," he explained.

"I figured you would," she said with a smirk and a chuckle.

As Deakins placed his car keys down on the table in the foyer, he glanced down and saw his luggage, all packed and ready to go. He let out a sigh of relief and turned towards his wife. "You finished packing for me."

She smiled, "After 27 years of marriage...I had a clue you'd be running late."

"Thanks, hon," he stated, as he leafed through the day's mail.

"I put a new bottle of Excedrin in your bag, and a package of Rolaids and a bottle of Pepto-Bismol."

"A little overkill, don't you think?" he asked, only half joking.

"Not at all," she teased back, "Maybe your memory is a blur but I remember the last time!" She had come up behind him, wrapping her arms around his mid-section and patted his stomach. He turned and gave her a kiss.

"What are you and Patty doing this weekend?" he asked. (Patty was their youngest daughter; their two older girls were away at college).

"Patty's going straight to Kerri's house for a sleep over tonight. They have a big day at the mall planned for tomorrow."

He took her face in his hands and kissed her again. "Figures – we finally have the house to ourselves and I've gotta' leave town," he teased. She leaned into him, with a big hug around his waist, laying her head on his chest. She sighed, "I know – – you could always skip the convention and stay here with me," she teased.

"Not a chance!" he laughed.

The doorbell rang; his ride to the airport had arrived.

"Well, gotta' go," he said, giving her a quick kiss and bending to pick up his suitcase.

"Bye, sweetie. Have a safe trip and have fun...but not too much fun."

"Thanks, hon...and thanks for finishing my packing."

"Hey Jimmy! Need these?" she teased. He turned to see his wife waiving his tickets in front of his face. He laughed as he grabbed them from her, "Thanks."

He trotted down the stairs and the driver took his bag from him to load in the car. Deakins turned as he was half-way down the path. "Hey Kath!"

"What, sweetie, you forget something?"

"I got a call from Dave this morning. He said you still haven't stopped by to sign the papers."

"Oh, I know," she said apologetically. "I'm sorry. I've been meaning to go, but every day something else comes up."

"Well, please go do that, okay? He said if we miss the deadline, he won't be able to lock in the rate."

"I will, I promise," she said, holding up her hand in a 'swearing-in' gesture. "Maybe I'll go this afternoon, since I don't have to wait for Patty after school."

The driver held open the back door and Deakins got in, yelling a final 'good-bye' to his wife. She watched him smile and wave, as the Towncar pulled away.

Friday, 1:30 p.m.

One Police Plaza - 11th Floor, MCS

It had started to rain on their way back from lunch. Alex sunk into her chair, looking at the new stack of files that had been deposited on her desk while they were out. "Oh, great," she said, annoyed by the new work load and the droplets of water running from her bangs into her eyes. She tried to wipe the excess water from her hair, which only resulted in it becoming flatter and plastered down to her head.

Bobby sat across from her at his desk, totally amused by the sight. "That's a good look for you," he teased, immediately burying his head in a file to avoid her glare.

"Watch it, buster!" she warned him, only half-teasing, as she glared across the desk and couldn't help but notice that the dampness and humidity only curled his hair more.

They continued their paperwork for the next forty-five minutes or so, with minimal chatter, until Alex finally broke the silence. "Pretty quiet without the Captain."

"Yeah," Bobby said, checking the clock. "I guess he's just about taking off." He reached for the next file on the pile. "So, what are you doing tonight? Any plans?" He kept looking at his paperwork, while waiting for her answer.

"Looking like this? You can't be serious," she playfully snapped back.

"You don't look so bad to me," he answered, matter-of-factly.

"Wow, you must be desperate," she teased. They worked quietly for another five minutes.

"So, what's it gonna' be?" she asked. "Pizza or Chinese?"

"Pizza," he answered. "And I'll bring the beer," he said, smiling.

"Best thing I've heard all day. You've got yourself a date."

Another silent five minutes passed.

"Hey, Eames."

She looked up, curiously, thinking to herself, "Maybe Bobby found something interesting in a file– – no, he's fighting back a smile."

"Try and do something with that hair before I get there, tonight, 'kay?" He was laughing his breathy, snorting chuckle that she loved.

She didn't bother pretending to be mad. She laughed along with him.

Friday, 2:15 p.m.

The Deakins' House

Kathy Deakins had, once again, gotten distracted. There was a far-too-long telephone call from the mother of one of Patty's classmates, who somehow talked her into working on the Committee for the "Snow Ball," the annual winter dance at Patty's high school. Then she had gotten involved in washing the kitchen floor, wanting to take full advantage of the fact that, for once, no one would be home to tread on it, leaving sticky footprints. She wasn't sure what had jarred her memory, but Jimmy's words came rushing back to her and she thought to herself, "Oh geez, I'd better call Dave at the bank and see if I can go sign those papers. If Jimmy gets back from Vegas and I still haven't done it, he's gonna' have a fit!"

She grabbed the business card from the grasp of the fridge magnet and picked up the phone to dial.

Voice: "Good afternoon, Chase Manhattan. How may I direct your call?"

"Hi, this is Kathyrn Deakins. May I speak with David Conroy, please?"

Voice: "Please hold, while I transfer you."

"Thank you."

"David Conroy. How can I help you?"

"David, it's Kathy Deakins."

"Kathy, Hi! When can you get in here? I've gotta get those papers submitted if we're gonna' lock in that mortgage rate."

"I know, that's why I'm calling. Can you see me if I come over now?"

"Sure, that's fine."

"Great. I'll be there in about half an hour."

"See you then, Kathy."

Kathy Deakins checked herself in the hall mirror. She quickly applied some lip gloss and ran her fingers through her wavy brown hair. "Good enough," she told her reflection, as she grabbed the keys to Jimmy's car. "I'd better get going."

Friday, 2:35 p.m.

Continental Flight #1701 to Las Vegas

Bill Kowalski was the largest of the three men, so he had taken the aisle seat on the left, while Don and Jimmy sat together, opposite him, leaving the middle seat empty for a roomier fit.

Voice: "Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. I'm your Captain, Dennis Hastings. On behalf of myself and the flight crew, I'd like to welcome you aboard Flight 1701, non-stop service to Las Vegas. It looks like we have a smooth trip ahead – estimated flight time is 3 hours 40 minutes. As soon as we reach our cruising altitude of 37,000 feet, I'll be turning off the seat belt sign and the attendants will be passing throughout the cabin with our beverage and snack service. The weather in Las Vegas is currently 82 and sunny. Again, thanks for flying Continental."

The three friends talked and laughed, catching up on family news. The flight attendant finally arrived at their row.

"Something to drink?" she addressed Don.

"Seltzer with lemon."

"And you, sir?" she asked, looking at Deakins.

"Scotch, rocks," he said, handing her a five dollar bill.

"I'm with him," Kowalski said, tossing his head Jimmy's way. He took the drink from the attendant and called across the aisle to Deakins, "Hey, Jimmy...you got another five? I've only got hundreds." He sipped his drink, chuckling.

Deakins handed her another bill, shaking his head at his friend, "You haven't changed, Bill."

"Cheers," Bill responded, raising his glass towards Jimmy and Don. "To a fun trip!"

They settled back and relaxed in their seats, all three of them smiling.

Friday, 2:45 p.m.

Chase Manhattan Plaza, (Lower Manhattan - Between Pine & Liberty Sts.)

Kathy Deakins had gotten lucky, finding a parking space only half a block away from the bank.

She hurried down the block, checking her watch, and said to herself: "Two forty five. Lucky I didn't have to waste time hunting for a space...luckier the rain let up, or I'd be soaking wet...where the heck did I put my umbrella?"

She entered the bank and made a quick survey of the lobby. There were two customers at teller windows, both male. She looked to the side and spotted several employees at their desks; Dave was among them. She headed in his direction.

Outside the bank, she hadn't noticed the two men sitting in the unmarked black van.

"We stick to the plan," the bald one said to the black-haired one who was sitting in the driver's seat. "No improvising...we get in, you take care of the guard, we grab the cash and get out, simple and neat...no shooting unless absolutely necessary, got it?"

The black-haired one nodded, "I got it, man...we've been over it a hundred times!"

"Just make sure you do," the bald one sternly said. "Let's go!"

**END Chpt. One**


	2. Chapter 2

1**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Sorry it took a while to get this chapter up, but it was a busy & fun Holiday weekend. **

**You'll notice when reading that I've referred to the "bald" robber and the "black-haired" robber. That's just for the readers' ease of distinguishing who's who, because their names are still unknown. Obviously, once their ski masks are on, the people inside the bank cannot tell one robber from the other by his hair/lack of hair characteristics.**

**Chapter 2**

**Plans Gone Awry**

Friday

2:55 p.m. - Inside the Chase Manhattan Bank

As the bald man and the black-haired man approached the bank, two customers exited the bank –– the two male customers who Kathy Deakins had seen at the tellers' windows. (They didn't realize how lucky they were. As they say, 'timing is everything').

The bald one nodded to the black-haired one – the "go" signal – as they simultaneously pulled the black ski masks over their faces, hands readied on the weapons concealed by their jackets. They burst through the door, counting on the element of surprise. What they did not count on was a variable: a change in the security guard. On duty today was not the slim, almost elderly white-haired guard who they had spied all week; he had called in sick today. In his place was a much younger, larger and intimidating presence. Any plan for the black-haired robber to quickly overtake and subdue the guard immediately faded. Panic set in.

Before the bald robber even finished his command of "Everybody down on the floor, this is a..." the guard had drawn his weapon and emptied two rounds from his Sig into the chest of the black-haired robber. The robber's body stumbled backwards–almost in slow motion– he fell awkwardly over a planter, dropping his weapon and leaving a smear of crimson blood down the side of the mirrored container, before slumping to the floor.

Chaos reigned.

While the tellers, desk workers and Kathy Deakins watched in horror and frozen by fear at the unfolding events, the bald robber had unloaded three shots of his own, hitting the guard in the right shoulder and upper arm. The third shot had missed its mark. The jolting force and pain of the shots had caused the guard's weapon to fly from his hand, landing only a foot away from Kathy Deakins' feet. The guard was on his back, trying to prop himself up on his left elbow. The bald robber approached, aiming his weapon directly at the guard's forehead. Kathy had a decision to make and she had to make it fast. She needed the robber to be distracted, just for a few seconds; she seized the opportunity when she saw his attention directed at the guard.

"You're very brave," he said with a mocking sneer.

The guard looked up, beads of perspiration all over his face; his breath came in short gulps, from both the adrenaline rush and the pain.

"Look, mister, just go while you can still get outta' here...these people didn't...

The robber interrupted the guard. "Ssshhhhhhh," he almost whispered, his left index finger pressed against his lips. "You wanted to be a hero today?" he asked with a sick smile. "Heroes die quietly."

The black eyes of the robber were cold and emotionless, as he stared at the face of the guard. The onlookers knew what was coming and turned their heads away from the about-to-be horrific sight, just in time, as the robber squeezed the trigger. The sound of the shot and the guard's head crashing back against the hard marble floor as the bullet entered his skull echoed through the lobby. It was a sound that none of them would ever forget.

The robber quickly walked over to the body of his accomplice and picked up the weapon which laid by his side, stuffing into the waistband of his pants. Across the room at the desks, two of the bank's employees, sickness brought on by both nerves and their minds' images of what had just occurred, had just finished vomiting into their deskside garbage cans.

Dave Conroy tried his best to look inconspicuously towards Kathy. He couldn't believe what he had just seen her do. He wasn't sure exactly what she was up to, but he decided at that moment that he was sticking with her – at least, it seemed to him, she was on track to formulating a plan that might get them out of this jam. They exchanged a split-second, knowing glance.

The yelling of the remaining robber immediately snapped him out of his thoughts.

"All of you, over there!" he commanded, waving with his gun towards the rear wall of the office area.

They filed by him, one-by-one, trying to avoid eye contact with him while also trying to avoid the sight of the guard and the pool of blood and brain matter that had accumulated around his head on the white marble floor.

As Kathy Deakins and the bank's desk personnel sat against the wall at the rear of the bank, the robber, while keeping an eye on them, approached the tellers' windows.

"Empty everything from those drawers – no dye packets – then get out from behind there and join your friends over there."

The robber's eyes shifted back and forth, from the sitting group to the tellers, watching as they emptied their respective cash drawers, clutching the bills to their bodies as they made their way from behind the windows towards their hostage coworkers.

"Put it in here!" he demanded, as he shoved a canvas tote bag at the blond teller. The red-haired teller was reaching for the bag to deposit her money, when the blaring sound of the bullhorn speaker startled them all.

"This is the Police. The building is surrounded. Come to the door with your hands up."

They could not see the robber's face, but the look in his eyes was dismay, fear and anger.

He screamed his demand; "You tell me now! Which one of you bitches hit the silent alarm!"

Neither woman replied. The fact was that each of them had pressed the small button at their feet at almost the instant the robbers had first entered the bank. It had been six and one-half minutes earlier, but felt like an eternity before the Police arrived.

"You BITCHES think you're heroes, too," he asked with a half-smile, head cocked to one side.

He didn't wait for an answer.

Friday

3:02 p.m. Outside the Chase Manhattan Bank

The block had been sealed off. The street was swarming with Police vehicles and personnel, the armored S.W.A.T. vehicle being closest to the bank's front door. Officers, donned in their Kevlar helmets and bullet-proof vests, with weapons at the ready, were getting positioned. They immediately found cover and aimed their guns at the bank when the two shots sounded. Then silence.

Artie Schultz, the head of the S.W.A.T. unit yelled to his men, "Everyone, hold your fire." He then spoke through the bullhorn, once again.

"This is the Police. The building is surrounded. I want you to tell us what's going on in there – what just happened. The phone in there is gonna' ring in a few seconds. I want you to answer it and talk to us, okay."

Sgt. Darius Sanchez was the S.W.A.T. team's No. 1 sniper. He stood next to Schultz and shot him a doubtful glance, "I don't think this one's gonna' be easy," he flatly stated.

Friday

3:07 p.m. - Major Case Squad

Alex placed a fresh cup of coffee on Bobby's desk, along with a fresh stack of paperwork.

"Thanks and no thanks," he joked, taking a sip of the brew.

She chuckled and tossed her head towards him, "So, what time ya' plan on getting to my place tonight?"

Bobby shrugged his shoulders, "I dunno' – maybe I'll just follow you, straight from work. I don't really have to go home first for anything...just gotta' stop for the beer. Why?"

"I was just wondering...I figured you'd go home first to change...get comfortable. You don't wanna' hang out eating pizza in your suit, do you?" she smiled.

"I think you were just hoping see me in my new Tommy jeans," he teasingly flattered himself with a chuckle.

"Oh brother," she moaned, while rolling her eyes. She opened the next file on the stack, while vowing never to admit to him that he was right.

A minute or so later, another of the MCS's detectives, Glenn Sommers, burst into the squad room, "Hey, you guys hear?" he excitedly asked.

All heads turned to listen.

"A bank heist in progress at Chase Manhattan Plaza...S.W.A.T.'s on the scene...shots fired."

The announcement started a wave of chatter amidst the squad rood. Bobby, eyebrows raised, looked across the desk at his partner, "That's like...2 minutes away...let's keep an eye on it."

Alex thought he sounded too eager; especially now, without Deakins here to rein him in;

"Bob-eeee" she said, with a warning tone. "We don't have to show up until after the robbery's over."

He stood up from his desk, "I didn't mean go there...let's go to the break room and see if they've got anything on TV yet."

Alex stood to join him, convincing herself that if Deakins were there, he wouldn't have minded the two of them taking a little mid-afternoon break.

Friday

3:15 p.m. Inside the Chase Manhattan Bank

The three remaining living bank employees and Kathy Deakins sat – frozen. The reality of what had just happened before their eyes hadn't yet set in. Kathy looked straight ahead – her legs dotted with blood spatter from the two tellers who were murdered just minutes before, who laid just feet away.

The incessant ringing of the telephone was nerve racking. The robber was refusing to answer it and talk to the Police.

Kathy tried to keep herself calm. She began making mental notes of the events; how everything had played out, so far. She began memorizing details of the robber, reciting to herself, " – he's right handed; he's about 180 pounds, around 5'10", really dark eyes...brown/black...he's got a slight Spanish accent..."

So far, she had been lucky. The robber hadn't yet thought about the guard's missing weapon – he must have been too distracted when the shooting started and things became chaotic. Her thoughts turned to her husband and her daughters, but she only felt herself getting upset at the possibility of never seeing them again, so she forced the thoughts of family from her head.

She couldn't afford to be weak or distracted. She had to stay composed and alert, if she, or Dave and that hidden gun were going to be of any use, at all.

END Chap. 2


	3. Opportunities & Risks

1Friday

3:25 p.m. - Major Case Squad

Bobby and Alex arrived in the break room to find several other officers already there, gathered around the TV. Reporters and camera crews from the City's major television stations had just arrived but, obviously, a wide perimeter had been established by the Police – – the news really had no specific details or new information, yet, to offer.

They watched for a few minutes, then Alex rose from her seat. "I don't know about you, but I've got a ton of paperwork to finish," she said, looking at Bobby, "and I don't feel like working late on a Friday."

Bobby stood, but his eyes remained on the TV. Alex could tell that he really wanted to stay and watch but, reluctantly, he joined her, turning back towards the room as they exited, "Hey, Jerry...come get me if anything good happens, okay?"

"Sure thing, Bobby," Jerry answered.

3:45 p.m.

Inside the Chase Manhattan Bank

Cathy Deakins, Dave Conroy and the other hostages remained seated on the floor, backs against the wall. They all noticed the increasing panic, anxiety and anger of their captor. He nervously paced back and forth in front of them, waving his weapon with each gesture of his hand, as he awkwardly stepped over the bodies of the dead tellers. He would nearly jump out of his skin every time the phone rang –which was often. After each unanswered call, the voice of the officer outside on the bullhorn could be heard, asking the robber to pick up the phone and talk to him and, within seconds, the phone would start ringing again. It was grating on all their nerves.

Dave Conroy's voice startled them all, when he blurted out, "Why don't ya' just answer the thing!"

The robber swung around, the look on his face turning from disbelief to anger. "You don't give me orders, he barked, as he pointed the gun at Dave. The group of hostages cowered, but Cathy Deakins spoke up: "He didn't mean it that way," she calmly tried to appease him. "It's just that...that non-stop ringing...it's annoying...if you don't plan on answering, can't we just take it off the hook? Or, may ..."

The gunman interrupted, "Or what," he asked, now pointing the gun at her. She forced herself to look at him; her heart was racing, her stomach in a knot. She felt her throat constrict and didn't know if she would be able to get the words out.

"Or, maybe it's a good idea to talk to them...show them that you're reasonable...that you're open to bargaining with them and...

The robber yelled, "Enough!." He aimed the gun at Cathy, waving it back and forth, like an extension of his finger. "There won't be any 'bargaining,' lady...that's the police out there...the New York City Police...a bunch of liars...traitors...the first chance they get to put a bullet in my head, they're gonna' take it!" He backed off and began pacing again, a pensive look on his face.

Dave and Cathy exchanged a look and a small sigh of relief; each of them had made it through the confrontation. Cathy looked at the bodies of the two tellers, practically at her feet, and the guard who laid near the entrance. The exposure to the air was turning the pool of blood surrounding him to a deep burgundy. She needed to create another window of opportunity for herself; she needed another distraction. She got an idea.

4:10 p.m.

Outside the Chase Manhattan Bank

Inside the S.W.A.T. Mobile Command Unit, Artie Schultz had just gotten off the phone with Commissioner Kelly. He wasn't able to tell the Commissioner much in the way of update. The gunman (or men) was/were refusing to communicate. There had been no sightings near the door or windows. All he could confirm was that the Police had responded to two separate silent alarms and that, almost immediately upon arrival, two shots had been fired. The block had been sealed off and S.W.A.T. personnel were positioned both around and above the building. Police technicians were still working with off-site bank security to hook into the bank's closed-circuit system, while other officers were reviewing the films from the outdoor cameras, in the hopes that clues could be derived from the sidewalk ATM monitors.

Schultz rubbed a hand through his hair. "Damn it," he swore, at no one in particular as Sgt. Sanchez entered the MCU.

"Brass gettin' on your back already," he asked, while adding another piece of bubble gum to the wad already in his cheek.

"Nah. I just wish I could get 'em to pick up the pho..."

Schultz was cut off by another member of the team, Tony Marino, who had bounded into the MCU, his adrenaline obviously pumping, "We're in the system – let's get the monitors on."

The technician flipped some switches and the monitors lit up, filled with a static snow. Marino reached over the control board, turning a dial as he said, "on channel 8." The image was now clear. The cameras were from the viewpoint of high behind each teller window, looking out towards the front of the bank. In the foreground, the lifeless, blood-soaked figure of the guard was plain to see. Slightly off to the side were the legs of someone else – unknown to the Police if dead or alive – but, in fact, they were the legs of the dead gunman, who had fallen against the planter.

Marino turned towards Schultz. "Ya' think that accounts for the two shots?"

Schultz rubbed his jaw, "Anything's possible. We've gotta' see more...we've gotta' find out how many people are in there...damn it! why won't they just pick up the damn phone!"

4:40 p.m.

Continental Flight 1701

Bill Kowalski and Jimmy Deakins had reclined and dozed off after their in-flight snack. Don Cragen was reclined, but leafing through a magazine. The movement from a slight air pocket had jostled Jimmy and he woke, looking to his left and right, eyeing his friends. He checked his watch; "4:40...we're just around two hours into our flight...another hour and a half to go, give or take," he thought to himself.

Bill was also now awake and returned his seat to the upright position, stretching his arms and legs as much as the cramped quarters would allow. He stifled a yawn and turned to Jimmy, asking, "How much longer?"

Cragen laughed. Jimmy knew why. Kowalski was like having a big kid around – the way kids always ask, "are we there yet?" whenever you're going somewhere. Deakins gave him a smile and said, " 'bout another hour and a half."

Bill nodded and asked the passing flight attendant for a Coke.

"I'll be right back with that, sir," she smiled.

"Hey Jimmy," he said. "You got any peanuts left?"

Deakins chuckled as he removed the foil packet from the seat-pocket in front of him and passed it to his friend.

"This is gonna' be a great trip, fellas!" he laughed, as he tore the packet open. Jimmy and Don agreed. It was great for the three old Academy buddies to be reunited for the trip.

"I don't know about you guys, but I wanna' catch a few zzz's before we land," Jimmy smiled. "It's gonna' be a late night while I'm beatin' ya' at the poker table," he laughed, as did Bill and Don.

4:45 p.m.

Inside the Chase Manhattan Bank

Cathy Deakins had formulated a plan. She had been waiting for an opportunity – a lull in the ringing of the phone and pleas for communication from the cop with the bullhorn, which only seemed to result in more ranting and pacing by the gunman, putting everyone more on edge (if that was possible). She waited until he seemed a bit more calm, then summoned up all her nerve.

"Excuse me." Her voice had come with soft trepidation.

The gunman looked at her, wordless, so she continued.

"Would it be all right if...well, if we got something to...cover th– that up?" she timidly asked, while pointing momentarily at the bodies by her feet and bending her knees, trying to get some space between herself and the corpses.

The gunman chuckled. "They don't look too pretty now, do they?" He laughed more, amused by his own sick humor.

"Or at least that one," she continued, pointing a nervously shaking finger at the blood-drenched guard.

"Ha! That one," the gunman mocked; "You smell that?...blood...that pig stinks already."

His bravado was merely an act. He didn't like the sight of the bodies any better – they were nothing but a reminder of the murder charges, among others, that he'd be facing if he didn't get himself out of this mess. They were also a reminder of the last time in his criminal past that things hadn't gone according to plan – a memory that still pissed him off.

He turned and addressed the group. "You!" he said, pointing at the bank worker in the blue striped tie. "You got something around here to cover this up?"

The young man in the tie swallowed hard; he tried to answer, but nothing would come out. Dave Conroy spoke, "The cleaning crew has some stuff in the closet back here," he said, gesturing with his thumb at the narrow hallway behind him, to his right side. "Trash bags, maybe," he nervously offered.

"Get up," the gunman demanded at Dave. "Come over here – slowly," he commanded, keeping his weapon pointed directly at Dave. "We're goin' for a little walk...if one of you moves, I put a bullet in his head...you got it?"

Cathy and others shook their heads, "Yes." Slowly, the gunman and Dave stepped towards the hallway, cautiously making their way to the supply closet, some 15 feet away.

Now safely out of his view, Cathy quickly opened her pocketbook and retrieved her cell phone, flipping it open and hitting her #1 speed-dial. The two bank employees next to her looked at her with disbelief. She could read their expressions – she knew what they were thinking, because if the roles had been reversed, she'd be thinking the same thing: 'This lady's either gonna' get us all killed or save us...but whichever it is, she's got balls.'

She placed the open phone on its side, behind her back and put her pocketbook back in its original position, returning her hands to her lap, just as the gunman and Dave returned, bearing an industrial-sized box of Hefty trash bags.

4:59 p.m.

Major Case Squad

Bobby and Alex had signed off on their paperwork and, with a great sense of satisfaction, Bobby walked it into Deakins' office and deposited the stack on his desk. As he turned to leave, the Captain's phone starting ringing. He hesitated for a moment, then decided he'd at least answer and tell the caller that Captain Deakins wouldn't be returning to the office until Wednesday. He grabbed the receiver.

"Major Case, Captain Deakins' office." No reply. But no hang-up, either. Bobby listened to the static-y air, deciding to give the caller a chance. "Maybe they're on a cell and lost the connection for a second," he thought. He continued listening, intently.

Voice: "You! Get up and help him...cover that one."

The voice was distant. Bobby continued listening.

Voice: "And cover up all that blood, too...filthy bleedin' pig."

That got Bobby's attention.

Voice: "Now get back over there and sit down! Nobody moves!"

Then...a ringing phone in the background. It rang – Bobby counted 20 times – then stopped.

Voice: God damn it! When are those friggin' pigs gonna' learn! I ain't answering the God damn phone!

Bobby's face almost went white. He had been putting 2 and 2 together and the realization finally hit. The call was coming from somebody inside the bank. "But how the hell did they end up dialing the Captain's num...Oh my God!"

At that instant, Alex had appeared in Deakins' doorway. She was wondering what was taking Bobby so long. After all, it was 5 o'clock and they had a pizza and beer to get home to. She didn't get a word out of her mouth – as soon as she saw Bobby's face, she knew something was wrong.

He covered the mouthpiece and, almost in a panic, told Alex, "Have Marty trace this call...and get me Artie Schultz on the phone!"

End. Chapt. 3


	4. Stand Off

1**A/N: Thanks, loyal readers & reviewers! Hope you enjoy!**

Chapter 4

**Stand Off**

Simultaneously between 4:45 p.m. and 4:59 p.m.

Outside the Chase Manhattan Bank

Schultz, Sanchez and Marino watched the monitors intently, for any signs of movement. "Look," Marino said, pointing to the screen. The three of them were glued to the action: the back of the hooded gunman could be seen, pointing and waving his weapon at two other men in shirts and ties. They watched as the two bank employees covered the bloody body of the guard and the pool of blood surrounding him; then they moved to the other body. The legs were still visible, so they assumed that the head and torso were being covered. The gunman and the employees then, once again, went out of camera range.

Sanchez turned to Schultz, "hmm, he has the nerves to pull a bank heist, but no stomach for the blood and guts?"

"Maybe," Schultz answered. "Maybe he didn't plan on the shit hittin' the fan. Or it could be in response to the hostages' requests," he said, rubbing his chin. "That wouldn't be a bad sign – – maybe he'd be open to other suggestions."

Marino grumbled, "Then why won't he answer the damn phone?"

One of the S.W.A.T. team's members had entered the MCU and handed some papers to Lt. Schultz. Sanchez stood behind his shoulder, reading for himself, while Marino, still sitting at the monitors' control panel, looked up and asked, "What'cha got?"

"...Report on the sweep of the block. The black van...VIN# has it stolen from Jamaica, Queens three days ago...stolen plates belong to a green Toyota Tundra pick up truck...reported stolen four days ago from Long Island City...gotta' be the getaway vehicle," he said while flipping to the next page. "Sanchez, look at this," he said excitedly. "Black Infiniti down the block...gold shield in the window...it's Jimmy Deakins' car!"

Marino looked up, keeping one eye on the screens. "I was up and down this block half a dozen times before I came in here. I didn't see Deakins anywhere."

Sanchez offered, "He could be in any office or store along the block."

Schultz shook his head. "Not with all this goin' on! I know Jimmy Deakins. If he was anywhere near this action, he would've..." Schultz was interrupted by the squawking of the radio. Marino answered: "SWAT MCU, Sergeant Marino. He's right here, hold on," he said, vacating his seat so that Artie Schultz could sit.

"This is Lt. Schultz. Who's this?"

"This is Detective Alexandra Eames of the Major Case Squad."

Schultz', Sanchez' and Marino's ears perked up. Getting a call from Major Case – – Captain Deakins' unit, couldn't be a coincidence.

"Go ahead, Detective," Schultz said.

"We've got a caller on the line, we think from a cell phone, from inside the bank."

Schultz nodded, "We were just figuring that out. We found Captain Deakins' car parked a half block away from the bank."

"Yeah, well," Eames said, "It's not the Captain on the inside, he's on a plane to Vegas. It's his wife."

The three men in the MCU traded a more-worried glance. "Damn," Schultz muttered.

Eames continued, "My partner's still listening on the line. He wants you to stop trying to call the bank...it's only making the gunman more agitated."

"What else can ya' hear going on in there?"

"Just that the guy was barking orders to cover up something...cover blood, said something about a 'filthy pig' and telling the hostages to sit down and not move."

"We saw it on the monitor. The guard is dead. They were coverin' up the bodies," Schultz said.

"Can you tell how many gunman?" Alex asked.

"We've only seen one, so far, wavin' a gun around – has a ski mask on." Schultz answered. "There's another body not in camera range – all we can see is legs, but they haven't moved in 15 minutes, so we're guessing injured or dead – could be one of the robbers, maybe shot by the guard, or could be a civilian. We just don't know enough yet."

"Okay, Lieutenant, keep the line open and we'll be back in touch," Alex told him.

"Hey!" Artie said, "Who's gettin' in touch with Deakins to tell him what's going on?"

"Nobody, yet," Alex responded. "Not until we know, for sure. Not until we have more facts."

Schultz and Sanchez shared a glance, with eyebrows raised. They weren't sure if keeping Deakins out of the loop was the best way to proceed – – but conceded. It wasn't their call to make and they already had their hands full.

"All right, Detective, that's your call. You guys get back to me, though, the second you hear something of value."

"We will, Lieutenant."

Schultz stood, relinquishing the chair back to Marino. "Maybe the lab will turn up some prints from the van. A guy doin' something like this has gotta' have priors – once we find out who he is, maybe we'll find a better way to deal with him."

5:10 p.m.

Major Case Squad

Alex rejoined Bobby in Deakins' office. "Anything new?" she whispered. Bobby shook his head, whispering his reply, "No, it's been pretty quiet. You reach Schultz?"

"Yes. They found the Captain's car parked on the block by the bank. They thought it was him on the inside."

Alex took a seat across from Bobby. There was no hiding the worry and concern on her face. "When are we gonna' tell the Captain?"

"He should be landing in Vegas at around 6:15 our time – I already had Morris book him on a return flight almost as soon as he touches down. Airport security is meeting him at the arrival gate."

Alex sighed, "Gonna' be a heck of a flight back."

Bobby nodded, letting out a sigh of his own.

6:00 p.m.

Inside the Chase Manhattan Bank

The hostages remained seated and quiet. The gunman had been pacing, appearing to be lost in thought and only glancing at them from time to time. He had been talking to himself in a mumbling whisper, but his words were inaudible to the terrified group.

Cathy Deakins nudged Dave Conroy's arm, as she watched the gunman making his way over to the guard's covered body. Panic caused her stomach to flutter. The robber stood above the body, then slowly circled it, oblivious to the sickening sound caused by the suction of the blood and plastic underfoot. She knew what he was thinking. His head shot up; his eyes wild with his own panic, glaring at the hostages.

"Where's his gun!" he demanded. He stormed towards the cowering group.

No one answered.

"Where's his fucking gun!"

Again, no response.

"All of you! Get up! Face the wall – hands against the wall!"

Cathy Deakins had to think fast. If she stood, he'd be able to see the cell phone that was hidden behind her back. She began to rise, quickly passing her pocketbook around her to conceal the phone. She stood, holding the purse in place between her feet.

The gunman made his way down the line, quickly patting down the three men beside her – satisfied that they weren't concealing anything. He approached Cathy from behind, examining her form. There were no obvious bulges in her clothing. He quickly ran his free hand over her back and down her legs.

"Turn around!" he shouted at her.

She turned, hands still raised, looking the gunman in the eye.

"Lift your blouse!"

She looked at him, slowly raising her top above the waist of her slacks. "Is that high enough?" she asked, trying to appear a bit shy, but respectful towards him, at the same time.

"Spin around!" he instructed.

She slowly turned, giving the robber his proof. She was hiding nothing in her waistband.

"Everybody sit back down!"

Cathy was only too happy to oblige. A slight sense of relief came over her, but the gunman bent down in front of her, close to her face. She could smell the scent of his perspiration, the cigarette on his breath.

"Give me that purse," he whispered.

She handed him her pocketbook and watched as he retreated a few steps and dumped its entire contents on the floor. She could tell he was satisfied there was no gun. He removed the cash from her wallet and paused, briefly, to read the name from her driver's license.

"You're a lucky lady, Cathy," he taunted. "I think you know what I would've done to you if I found that gun in here," he sneered, dangling the purse by its straps in front of her, and tossing his head towards the figures of the dead tellers.

She nodded.

The gunman was appeased, for now, that none of the hostages was in possession of the guard's weapon. He was still uneasy with the fact that he didn't know its exact location, but satisfied that none of the hostages had it. He resumed his pacing.

6:10 p.m.

Major Case Squad

Bobby and Alex, along with several other MCS detectives who had gathered in Deakins' doorway, now listening via the speaker phone, breathed a sigh of relief that that situation had, for the time being, been diffused.

Alex watched Bobby's face. She could read him like a book. Something was still on his mind, gnawing at him.

Bobby turned towards the Detectives in the doorway, "Any word yet from the MCU or the lab about the fingerprints on the van?"

"I'll check on it," Jerry offered. The doorway group dispersed.

"What are you thinking?" Alex whispered.

Bobby held a hand over the phone's speaker/mic, leaning forward in the chair, "Th-the guard's missing gun, for one thing. If one of the hostages does know where it is and tries to use it..." his voice trailed off.

"And what else?" Alex questioned, eyebrows raised in typical fashion.

"Let Schultz' team know that the guard's gun is missing – one of the hostages may know where it is – hopefully, they won't try to use it."

Alex shot him a doubtful look. Bobby knew that that wasn't the answer to the "what else?" she was looking for. He looked at the clock on the wall and said, "6:15 – the Captain should be landing," and returned his attention to the phone.

6:18 p.m.

Continental Flight 1701

Jimmy, Don and Bill were anxious to get out of their seats, stretch and begin their Convention fun. The flight had just touched down and began slowly taxiing to the terminal. They spoke among themselves, laughing and planning their dinner and gambling schedules for the evening, while only half listening to the announcement by the Captain.

"...so, once again, welcome to Las Vegas. We hope you enjoy your stay. For those of you making connecting flights, a representative will be at the gate..."

Bill laughed and punched across the aisle at Jimmy's shoulder. "Hey, Jimmy...you remember those dancers at the Flamingo back in '92?"

Deakins smiled, "How could I forget?"

"...please remain in your seats until the 'seatbelt' sign is turned off and we reach the jetway. On behalf of myself and your flight crew, thank you for choosing Continental."

The plane finally came to a halt. The passengers were out of their seats, retrieving their carry-on luggage from the overhead compartments – all of them anxiously awaiting the opening of the door to disembark.

The door was finally unlatched but, as soon as it opened, an Airport Security Officer immediately stepped aboard, blocking the doorway. There was no getting by his 6'2" frame, as his baritone voice instructed the disgruntled first-class passengers to return to their seats. The instructions filtered down the aisle through the rest of the cabin, as the Captain once again spoke over the loudspeaker.

"We apologize for the delay, ladies and gentlemen. We have to ask everyone to return to and remain in your seats."

There was the expected complaining and buzzing among the passengers, who were wondering what the delay was all about.

Bill, Jimmy and Don looked at one another, shrugging their shoulders, as Don asked, "Wonder what's going on?"

They returned their attention to Captain Hastings.

"Will passenger James Deakins please come forward."

Deakins' eyes widened, now more than curious as to what was going on. He was worried.

He looked at Bill and Don as he rose from his seat. They could see his concern. There was an ominous feel to the events and their policemen's guts told them that something was wrong.

Bill stood up, determinedly stating, "I'm going with you." Don followed suit.

The other passengers watched with curiosity, as the three men made their way down the aisle.

Deakins arrived at the door, looking the Security Officer in the eye as he threw his thumb backwards towards Don and Bill. "These are my friends." The Officer eyed them for a second, but immediately said, "Come with me, Captain Deakins."

They proceeded up the jetway as Deakins wondered to himself, "How'd he know I was 'Captain' Deakins. Panic was setting in Jimmy's stomach – he surmised that there was some type of emergency involving his family – maybe Cathy or one of the kids was hurt – in a car accident or something. He was preparing himself for the worst. The thoughts swirling through his mind had only taken a couple of seconds, as he impatiently asked the Officer, "What's this about?"

The Security Officer's only reply was, "Please follow me."

The walk through the terminal was almost surreal; like something from a movie -- the sounds of the laughing and shouting as slot machines' lights flashed and bells rang were distorted in Deakins' ears; the grim, worried faces of the men were in stark contrast to their surroundings. They neared a door in the terminal marked "Authorized Personnel Only." The Officer opened the door, allowing Deakins, Kowalski and Cragen to pass through.

A man in a dark gray suit was seated at the desk, on the telephone. An older man, in a navy blue suit crossed the room, extending his hand towards Deakins. "Captain Deakins. My name is Ray Noble – head of airport security."

Deakins shook his hand, asking, "What's this all about, Mr. Noble?"

Noble couldn't hide the look of regret on his face. He hated being the bearer of bad news. He remained calm, controlled, and merely said, "There's an incident presently occurring back in New York."

The man at the desk interrupted, "We have him on the line, Mr. Noble."

Noble gestured towards the phone, as the man at the desk handed the receiver to Deakins, whose face reflected his worry, fear and puzzlement.

"Deakins," he firmly snapped, trying to mask his nerves.

"Captain, it's Bobby."

"What is it, Goren?"

Cragen and Kowalski looked at Deakins, then at each other. It must be something big – and important – for the office to have tracked him down like this.

"Captain, there's a situation at- downtown at the Chase Manhattan Bank."

Deakins knew, immediately. This was going to be bad news about his wife. He felt his legs almost buckle underneath him and reached his left hand out, to steady himself on the desk.

He prepared himself to hear the worst news possible – that his wife was dead. He sensed Don's and Bill's presence closer behind him, ready to give support.

"Bobby?"

"It's an attempted robbery – a hostage situation. Your wife is inside."

Bobby waited for a reaction, but there was only silence. On the other end of the phone, Deakins was simultaneously relieved and filled with panic. She was still alive– there was still hope that she'd come out of this okay.

"Captain, you're booked on the next flight back to New York. Artie Schultz' S.W.A.T. team is on the scene. Mrs. Deakins seems to be all right...we've been monitoring the inside from a call she placed with her cell phone to your office. We've identified the vehicle the perps used – we're waiting for the lab to get back to us with any match on the prints."

"What are his demands?" Deakins asked, trying to remain professionally objective.

"Nothing yet, Captain. There's been no contact. Schultz tried talking to him on the bullhorn ...tried calling inside, but he won't pick up the phone."

"Any shots fired?"

"The guard's dead. There's at least one other victim we can see...but only the legs...we believe a male...possibly the gunman's partner, maybe a customer, we just don't know yet," Bobby recited, matter-of-factly, trying to transfer calmness to the Captain.

Ray Noble interrupted, "Captain, the other flight is boarding. We've gotta' get you to the gate."

"Listen Bobby, I've gotta' board the flight back. You call me on my cell the second you know anything new, got it?"

"Yes, sir," Bobby assured him. He paused for a second; "Captain...we'll get her out."

Deakins had no answer. He hung up the phone and headed towards the door with Ray Noble.

Kowalski yelled from behind, with Don by his side, "Jimmy! What the hell's goin' on?"

6:45 p.m.

Outside the Chase Manhattan Bank

Schultz, Sanchez and Marino had been strategizing, but deciding that most of their alternatives were too risky to the hostages.

Marino tossed his pen on the desk, with a sigh of exasperation, "Sooner or later, the guy's gotta' break. He's gonna' get thirsty, or hungry or tired...the hostages, too...they're gonna' need a bathroom break...sooner or later, an opportunity's gotta' open up." He rubbed his hands over his face and leaned back in the chair.

Schultz nodded. Any one of those things could work for us or against us. Those people start griping, who knows what he'll do – not to mention that those bodies are gonna' start stinkin'.

Sanchez' head tilted, "Maybe we cut off the air and help that situation along," he said, with almost a grin.

"Not with this guy," Schultz answered. "I'm not gonna' start playin' games with him, guys...if Goren said that the ringing phone was pissing him off..."

Marino nodded, "So...we wait. He's gonna' want something from us..."

Marino was interrupted by another of the Team's officers who came into the MCU. "Lt. Schultz," he said, out of breath, "the lab results," he said, offering the results, along with the perp's 2 inch thick rap sheet to the Lieutenant.

Sanchez and Marino stood over the Lieutenant's shoulders, reading along with him.

"Quite a pedigree," Marino commented.

Schultz continued flipping through the pages, absorbing what he could in his brief purview. He turned towards Marino, "Get Goren back on the line."

7:00 p.m.

Major Case Squad

Bobby grabbed his phone before the end of the first ring. "Goren."

"Detective Goren, Sgt. Marino at the MCU. Lieutenant Schultz wants to talk to ya'," he said, handing the phone over to his commander.

"Schultz here. We got the lab results on the fingerprints...one set belonged to a Michael, "Little Mikey" Fagen...nothing major – couple of drug pops when he was young...shoplifting...assault beef with an ex-girlfriend...been off the radar for a few years. The other, a Goddamn career criminal –– rap sheet's two inches thick..."

"What's the name, Lieutenant?" Bobby impatiently asked, tapping his fingers on the desk. Alex was seated across from him, listening attentively.

"Benjamin 'Benny' Vasquez."

The line was silent. Bobby's face turned an ashen color, the likes of which Alex hadn't seen before, (well, at least not since the New Year's Day morning four years earlier that he spent kneeling over the toilet, while she tended to him and his hangover).

Suddenly, he spoke, "Don't do anything. I– I'll be right there!" he exclaimed, while rising from is chair and motioning a "let's go" to Alex.

"Whoa," Schultz said, "What are you gonna' do?" He was both curious and indignant – he didn't like people interfering with his job specialty.

"I'm gonna' get him to pick up the phone," Bobby defiantly said. He slammed the receiver down and he and Alex bolted for the door.

END Chpt. 4.


	5. Let The Games Begin

1**A/N: Thanks to the readers – Extra thanks to the Reviewers. I hope you enjoy it!**

**Let the Games Begin**

Simultaneously at 7:00 p.m.

The Hanrahan Household

Patty Deakins and her friend, Kerri, had finished clearing the dinner dishes from the table and sat back down to enjoy dessert with the rest of the Hanrahan family. As Mr. Hanrahan accepted his slice of German chocolate cake from his wife, his attention was caught by the TV in the adjoining den.

"Sshhhh, I want to hear this story," he said. The chatter around the table quieted down, as they heard the reporter's announcement.

Reporter: "The standoff began at approximately 3:00 p.m. this afternoon when, it was reported by witnesses, two armed men entered the Chase Manhattan Bank branch. Police advise that at least one person is dead, but it is possible that there are up to three others who might be dead or wounded. It is believed that the gunman or men is holding several hostages, as well. Police have cordoned off the area around Chase Manhattan Plaza and are continuing to attempt to negotiate with the gunman. Live, from lower Manhattan, this is Maria Brennan, Eyewitness News."

Mr. Hanrahan poured the half & half into his coffee and asked Patty, "That's downtown by your Dad's office, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Patty shook her head, "It's a few blocks away – – but I don't have to worry; my Dad left this afternoon for Las Vegas – some convention or something," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "Besides," she continued, "He rides a desk – that's what he's always complaining about to Mom, anyway," she said with laugh.

"So," Kerri's mother chimed in, "I hope you girls plan on getting an early start tomorrow; the mall's gonna' be crowded with the big sales at Macys and Bloomingdales."

"We're getting up early, Mom," Kerri said. "We wanna' be there as soon as the doors open at 9:30."

"Good! Your Aunt Carol and I are going, too. Maybe we can all meet somewhere and we'll take you out to lunch," Kerri's mother said. "How does that sound?"

Mr. Hanrahan laughed, "Sounds expensive, to me!"

Simultaneously at 7:00 p.m.

Inside the Mobile Command Unit Chase Manhattan Plaza

Lt. Schultz gave the telephone receiver a dirty look and hung it up. Sanchez and Marino could tell he was pissed off.

"There a problem?" Marino asked.

Schultz scowled, "Goren's on his way over. He thinks **he's** gonna' get the guy to talk," the Lieutenant scoffed.

Sanchez was still reviewing the thick file on Vasquez. He looked up at the Lieutenant; "He may be right," he said, his voice holding a glimmer of hope, as he handed the file back to Schultz. "Read this," Sanchez said, his index finger tapping the page.

Schultz read it and muttered, "I'll be damned."

"What's up?" Marino asked.

The Lieutenant laid the file down, as he filled Marino in on what Sanchez already knew. "Goren and Vasquez have a history – a bad one. Seems twelve years ago when Benny was heavy into the drug business up in Spanish Harlem, Goren was an undercover narc – – he infiltrated the gang and practically became Benny's right-hand man."

"Then what happened?" Marino asked, full of enthusiasm.

"Goren had him totally set up. The night the raid went down, it was Vasquez and Goren, together, backs against the wall – until Vasquez pulled his gun and got a shot off at one the Officers. Goren turned and fired on Benny – unfortunately, it only grazed Benny's shoulder. It didn't take Benny long to figure out that he'd been played and by the time Goren was laying the cuffs on him, he was already swearing revenge."

"Twelve years is a long time, Lieutenant, " Marino said. "Maybe bygones are bygones. D'you really think Vasquez is gonna' bite?"

"I guess we'll find out," Schultz said, as Sanchez simultaneously answered, "Oh, he'll bite."

Schultz and Marino looked at Sanchez. "What makes you so sure?" they asked in unison.

"You didn't read far enough, Lieutenant," he said with a chuckle. "Not only did Goren take a shot at Vasquez, but during the fourteen months of the Operation, he was bangin' Benny's sister– broke her heart," he said with a devilish grin. "Vasquez will pick up the phone. He's got **two** scores to settle."

7:13 p.m.

Goren & Eames in transit from 1PP to Chase Manhattan Plaza

It was a short ride from One Police Plaza to Chase Manhattan Plaza; so short, in fact, that Bobby barely had time to fill Alex in regarding his knowledge of and, more importantly, his history with Benny Vasquez. He was secretly glad that there wasn't time to tell her everything.

Alex screeched the black SUV to a halt, just outside the Police perimeter. Bobby bolted from the truck and joined Alex around back at the trunk, as they quickly donned their bullet-proof vests, double-checked their sidearms and headed for the Mobile Command Unit, on foot.

7:14 p.m.

Continental Flight #1699 to NYC

Deakins, Kowalski and Cragen had been seated in First Class for the return trip home. Aside from the fact that only two of the First Class seats were occupied by other passengers, it was a gesture of professional courtesy that the airline wanted to extend to the Captain, in light of the strenuous situation he was going through.

Despite Jimmy's protests that Bill and Don should remain in Vegas and enjoy themselves, there was no way that was going to happen. The three of them had been friends too long and Bill and Don weren't about to let Jimmy go through this alone.

They were quiet for some time, with a hundred different scenarios and worries running through their minds. As experienced Police Officers, each of them was well aware of how many things could go wrong in a situation like this.

Deakins checked his watch. "Damn! Why haven't I heard from Goren or Schultz yet?" He asked, while flipping open his cell phone and dialing Bobby's number.

7:14 p.m.

Major Case Squad

Detective Morris had just exited Deakins' office. Communication from the bank was lost. Apparently, the battery in the cell phone had gone dead. The telephone at Bobby's desk began ringing as Morris passed by, so he answered.

"Major Case, Detective Morris."

"Morris, its Deakins. Where's Goren?"

"Um, Captain, Goren and Eames just left – they're headin' over to the bank."

"What's happening there, Morris?"

"Last we heard, all's quiet in the bank, sir. We've been monitoring via the cell phone call, but, uh, we think the battery just died out...we just lost the connection...it was on for a few hours."

"Morris, if there's something you're not tellin' me, I wanna' know, now."

"No sir, there's nothing."

"Well, why are Bobby and Alex going there? Schultz isn't gonna' like that."

"I don't know, Captain. All I know is that he got a call from Schultz and they left."

"All right, Morris. Thanks."

Kowalski and Cragen watched as Jimmy ended the call. "Nothing's new," Deakins offered, as he flipped his phone back open and dialed Alex's cell number.

7:16 p.m.

Chase Manhattan Plaza

Bobby and Alex were steps away from the MCU when her phone rang. She grabbed it on the first ring, already fairly certain as to who was on the other end.

"Eames."

"Alex, what's going on?"

"Hey, Captain," she said, with a glance at Bobby; "Bobby and I just arrived at the bank. We're about to meet with Schultz."

"Yeah, well, this is Schultz' party. What are you two doing there?" Deakins was still suspicious that something was going on; that perhaps something had happened and there was bad news that they weren't telling him.

"Sir, it seems Bobby is familiar with one of the gunman. He thinks he can get through to him."

"Put him on."

Alex handed the phone to Bobby, as they were entering the MCU. Schultz, Sanchez and Marino turned, as Bobby and Alex walked in. Bobby was already talking to Deakins.

"I'm Goren's partner, Alexandra Eames," she said, motioning with her thumb back over her shoulder in Bobby's direction. "Goren's on the phone with the Captain now."

The four of them listened, one-sided, to Bobby's conversation.

"...No, not yet. Alex and I just arrived. We're gonna' get up to speed with Lieutenant Schultz and then I'm gonna' make contact."

"Bobby," the Captain said, with a lump forming in this throat. It was all he could get out, but Bobby understood, because no other words were necessary.

"Captain, I'm gonna' get him to talk to me and I'm gonna' get her outta' there – – I give you my word."

"Make sure you keep me informed."

"I will."

"...and Bobby... be careful."

Bobby closed the phone, ending the call.

7:20

Continental Flight #1699

Don and Bill looked at Jimmy, waiting to hear an update. Deakins turned to them, "There's nothing new on the inside. Goren and Eames just arrived at the S.W.A.T. MCU. Goren's gonna' try to get the guy to talk."

"It'll be all right, Jimmy," Bill said, trying to reassure his friend.

Deakins settled back in his seat. He hated the helpless feeling, but resigned himself to the fact that there was nothing he could do from a thousand miles away and 30,000 feet up in the air. Without even consciously noticing it, Bobby's words had crept back into his mind. "I'm gonna' get her outta' there...I give you my word." They resonated over and over again. Deakins knew there was no guaranty. Nobody could keep a promise like that in a situation as dangerously volatile as this. But, somehow, he found comfort and optimistic hope in Bobby's words. Deakins knew that if he could count on anyone to keep his word and get a job done, it was his pain-in-the-ass, but favorite Detective, Bobby Goren.

7:30

MCU - Outside the Chase Manhattan Bank

After a short briefing, Schultz picked up the mic and turned to Bobby, saying, "Let's give it another try." Bobby nodded the 'go ahead.'

Schultz pressed the button on the mic and began speaking. "This is Lieutenant Schultz of the New York City Police Department. We want to talk to you. Please - pick up the phone and let's see what we can work out here."

Marino dialed the bank and the phone rang, once again without answer. Schultz shook his head negatively.

Bobby nodded at the Lieutenant and reached for the mic. Alex watched with anticipation, wondering what Bobby was going to say. Bobby pressed the button and began:

"Benny!"

(Inside, the gunman's head snapped around, his full attention now turned to the front of the bank. The cops knew his name).

Bobby continued, in a mocking tone. "Benjamin 'Benny' Vasquez. Looks like your career's moved in a different direction, Benny. Well, maybe that's a good thing. If I remember correctly, Benny, the drug thing didn't turn out so good for ya'."

(Inside, Benny was growing more agitated with every word. He thought he recognized the voice talking to him now, but it was too hard to really distinguish it over the loudspeaker. He thought to himself, "Any cop could be reading from a rap sheet – playing games – trying to get inside my head.")

"C'mon, Benny. Pick up the phone. I thought you'd be happy to talk to an old friend." He was toying with Vasquez – giving him food for thought.

Alex, Schultz and his crew watched Bobby. He was enjoying this. But only Alex knew Bobby well enough to know how much. Only she knew his interrogation style and negotiating technique – well enough to know that he had already begun the game –– psychological or physical, Bobby always won –– and it was only a matter of time before he would move in for the capture, if not the kill.

Schultz nodded towards Marino to dial the bank again. The phone began ringing. Still no answer. Bobby looked towards Marino and instructed him, "Let it keep ringing."

Bobby kept talking. "Well, okay Benny – if that's how you wanna' be..."

(Inside, Benny was pacing. He was sure of the voice now – the tone – the cockiness. It had to be him. The hostages watched in ever-growing fear. They could actually see the rage growing in their captor and the shrill, incessant ringing of the phone was grating on all their nerves).

"...hey, Benny," Bobby's booming voice continued, with a chuckle, "I bet if I call your little sister, she'll pick up the phone for me...I bet she still wants me," he laughed sarcastically, "even after all these years..."

Alex shot him a glance. She was quickly putting together the missing pieces of Bobby's version of the story that he gave her on the drive over.

(Inside, the hostages shrunk down in startled fear, as the gunman stormed over the to telephone, screaming expletives).

7:45 p.m

Inside the Chase Manhattan Bank

Vasquez was furious. He grabbed the receiver and screamed into the phone, "Goren! You bastard! You BASTARD!

7:45 p.m.

MCU outside the Chase Manhattan Bank

Marino jerked the phone away from his ear. He held the receiver up, pointed at Bobby and smiled, "It's for you."

Alex and Bobby exchanged a glance. She checked her watch and thought to herself, with a smirk, "...ha, S.W.A.T. couldn't get him to pick up the phone in four and a half hours...Bobby, five minutes." She somehow knew that Lt. Schultz wouldn't be amused.

END Chapt. 5


	6. Negotiations

1**A/N: Thanks to the Reviewers! The fact that you take the time to write to let me know you're enjoying this story, is much appreciated. **

**Negotiations**

7:45 p.m.

Inside the Chase Manhattan Bank

Cathy Deakins' heart leapt when she heard the gunman yell Goren's name. She felt almost a sense of relief, knowing that the capable Bobby Goren was just outside but, at the same time, now worried for his safety. She knew all too well of his antics and unorthodox style – he had been the topic of conversation at the Deakins' dinner table many a time; not to mention the cause of most of her husband's sleepless nights. She knew she couldn't let her facial expression give away any hint that she knew Bobby – it could be more dangerous for both of them.

7:45 p.m.

Inside the MCU

Bobby strode over to Marino and took the phone. "Aww, I'm really touched, Benny – you want to talk to me, after all," he mockingly said. He sat in the chair that Marino had vacated and grabbed a pen.

Vasquez: "You filthy pig! You think I'd ever forget what you did to me – and to my family?"

Bobby leaned back in the chair, "C'mon Benny, I was just doin' my job. When did you get outta' the joint, anyway? They let you out early for good behavior?" he chuckled. "Oh, you don't feel like answering that –well, okay, maybe you wanna' tell me how you plan on getting outta' the bank?"

Vasquez: "I don't hav'ta answer nothin' for you!"

Alex, along with Schultz and his team, stood inside the MCU, eyes fixed on Bobby and the monitors. Vasquez was pacing –as far as the telephone cord would allow – and intermittently would appear and disappear from the camera's view.

"Well, can ya' tell me, Benny, how ya' hooked up with Mikey Fagen? I mean, why'd ya' choose him to be your accomplice on this job?" Bobby rubbed a hand through his hair. "Oh well, I guess that's another question you don't wanna' answer, huh Benny? I don't blame ya'...I guess you've had bad luck when it comes to choosin' the right partner...like, Mikey...or, or like 12 years ago," Bobby said, emphasizing his sarcasm.

Vasquez: "Shut up!

"Okay, okay...but, I'm just tryin' to help ya' figure out what you're gonna' do. I mean, there's been a lot goin' on today – a lot on your mind...I'm tryin' to help ya' keep the facts straight – so ya' have a clear picture – know what your options are."

There was no reply from Vasquez. He was listening.

"Look," Bobby continued, eyeing Schultz, his pen ready to write, "Can ya' help us get some things straight? Why do ya' need six hostages? It's only more work for you, having to keep an eye on 'em."

Vasquez: "I don't have no six hostages! I got four!"

Sanchez and Schultz looked at each other. The bank had provided them with the names of the staff in the bank – three men at the desks and two female tellers, plus Cathy Deakins.

Bobby jotted it down. If one hostage was Cathy Deakins, that left three others-- bank employees. Which meant that two bank employees were dead.

"Okay, so why not let the women go? I know you've never been the type to harm women, Benny – I mean, you always treated your mother and sister with respect and..."

Vasquez: "You shut up! You leave my family out of it," he screamed.

"Okay, okay," Bobby tried to calm him. "But how 'bout it, Benny? Why not let the women go?"

"I don't have no women..I got one woman! –stupid cop!"

Sanchez smirked at Schultz, "This guy is stupid."

Bobby noted it down. That meant that the three male bank employees were alive, along with one woman– Cathy Deakins.

"So, let the woman go, then," Bobby said, softening his tone to almost a plea.

"No way...woman are worth more to you cops," he sneered.

Schultz' eyes met Bobby's, then Bobby looked at Alex – she recognized his little half smile–the one that always crept across his lips when he was purposely being a wise ass. "Well, maybe to some cops, Benny...but uh...some of us don't care one way or another," he chuckled, "love 'em and leave 'em, right?."

Alex rolled her eyes, with a silent "oh brother!"

Bobby's comment had sent Vasquez off on another tirade of expletives against cops and Bobby, in particular. Obviously, the subject of what Bobby had done to Benny's sister was still a sore one.

"Okay, okay...Benny...why don't ya' tell me why you hadda' go and kill the guard and the two tellers."

"That was Mikey! He shot the guard – you ain't pinnin' that on me!"

"And what about the women? You don't respect women any more?"

"Those bitches got what they deserved," Vasquez snarled.

"Any what about Mikey? You put a bullet in him so you wouldn't have to give him his cut of the money?"

"The guard shot Mikey! I don't turn on my friends! Not like you, you no good pig!"

Bobby nodded and continued jotting down notes. "Benny, I'm gonna' hang up now – give you some time to think about all this. I want you to think about what you want, Benny – how you want this end. You've gotta' make a move towards resolving this– a demonstration that you're not irrational or unreasonable. Think about lettin' the hostages go, Benny, and we'll see what kinda' deal we can work out for ya', okay?"

Vasquez had been listening, but didn't respond.

"And Benny? Since... uh, since we know it's you, I think you can take off the ski mask now...must be gettin' pretty hot in there," Bobby smirked, as he hung up the phone.

Schultz and his crew laughed.

Bobby stood and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, the guard's dead, the accomplice is dead and the two tellers..."

Alex nodded, "female tellers."

Bobby's face reflected his true regret, "I didn't think he had it in 'im...not against women."

Sanchez twisted open a bottle of water and thirstily gulped. Marino reclaimed the chair by the monitors and Schultz dryly commented, "Ya' spend over ten years in the joint, ya' come out a different man."

Alex looked at Bobby, eyebrows raised, "So, what's the plan?"

Bobby sighed and rolled his shoulders, "Give him some time – then call 'im back and see if he's come to his senses – if he'll release the hostages."

"Pretty big 'ifs'," Alex replied.

8:05 p.m.

Inside the Chase Manhattan Bank

Vasquez slammed down the receiver and yanked off the knitted ski mask, now feeling almost foolish. His bald head and his face were beaded with sweat. He turned towards the hostages, who were getting their first look at their captor, and began pacing in front of them. They sat in silence, watching him– fearful of his next actions.

"Excuse me, sir," came Cathy's soft voice.

He whirled around and looked at her, his piercing black/brown eyes now more filled with panic, caused by indecisiveness and desperation, than with the anger she'd seen flash in them while he was on the phone with Bobby.

"I, I have to use the restroom," she meekly said.

"Where is it?" he snapped.

Cathy looked at him, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm not sure, sir...I don't work here, I'm just a customer."

Dave Conway interjected, "It's down the hallway...a little farther than the supply closet we went to before."

Vasquez looked at Dave, "Are there any windows in there?"

Dave looked at the gunman, "Um, I'm not sure. I know there aren't any in the men's room."

Vasquez overlooked the wise-ass tone of Dave's response – partly because he didn't need another altercation and partly because he realized how stupid his own question was.

"Get up," he said to Cathy.

Cathy didn't have to do much acting to pretend that her butt was stiff from sitting – she had a little case of "pins and needles" in her legs. The awkward movements afforded her the opportunity to slide over the now dead cell phone from behind her back to behind Dave's.

"Check your watch," Vasquez said to her. She looked at the time and announced, "8:07."

"I'll give you two minutes. If you're not back, sitting in that spot in two minutes, I put a bullet in his head," he threatened, pointing at Dave.

Cathy nodded, "I'll be quick." It felt good to be up and walking and it was true – she did need a bathroom break.

Vasquez kept pacing while Cathy was gone, but stopped to watch her, once he heard her returning footsteps in the hallway. He looked at her curiously; "What is that you're holding?"

She held out her hand, "Just some paper towels – I wet them with cold water, s-so you could wipe your face. He looked at her, not quite sure what to make of her kind gesture, but he took the towels and quickly wiped his face, head and neck, enjoying the refreshing coolness.

Cathy had returned to her spot on the floor. Vasquez walked towards her, standing at her feet. "Thank you," he said, softly.

She nodded and managed a small smile. "I just wanted to do something to thank you for letting me use the bathroom."

She had no idea how much her small, humane act affected him. For the first time in years, he was reminded of how it felt to be part of a civil society, rather than being treated like –and hence becoming– an animal in the cages of a prison cell block – an inmate's number instead of a man with a name. It was, however, a fleeting feeling and Vasquez quickly returned to the situation at hand.

8:10 p.m.

Inside the MCU

Alex poured a cup of water for Bobby and handed it to him. "So," she said, how long you gonna' give him?"

Bobby swallowed. "Another five minutes, maybe. He should be ready to talk by then."

"You think that was so smart?" she asked, "..Getting him all riled up like that?"

"We'll see," he said curtly and took another gulp.

Alex hated when Bobby did that – kept his thoughts and plans from her. She knew how he worked and that he was usually three steps ahead of everyone else. It was just another one of his quirks that she had gotten used to – but that didn't mean she liked it. She watched as he took out his cell phone and dialed.

"Calling the Captain?" she asked. He shook his head in the negative, as the called connected.

"Morris, its Goren. Do me a favor and dig up whatever information you can on Vasquez' family. Yeah – parents, brother..." He paused and glanced at Alex "...and uh...especially his sister, Maria Elena. Yeah, whatever you can find – thanks, Morris. Call me back on my cell as soon as you can." He flipped the phone closed.

Alex gave him her classic, eyebrows raised inquiring look and teased him. "Tracking down your old girlfriend, big guy?" She didn't get the reaction she expected. Bobby merely looked at her, brows furrowed and walked back over to the panel of monitors. It would have been amusing, but, apparently, Vasquez wasn't the only one with a sore spot where his sister was concerned.

8:20 p.m.

Inside the Chase Manhattan Bank

Vasquez had been doing a lot of thinking, since Bobby's call. He had been weighing his options and knew he had only two: Release the hostages, surrender and go to prison, for life – or die by a Policeman's bullet. He had already made up his mind. He had spent ten years in prison and there was no way he was going back. And if he was gonna' die and 'go straight to hell,' as his own father once cursed him, he was gonna' take Goren with him. He had a plan. He waited for the phone to ring.

END Chpt. 6


	7. Deadly Aim

1**A/N**: Thanks again to the readers and reviewers. Your input and comments are welcome and most appreciated. Grateful thanks to Mr. Wolf for "sharing" his LO:CI characters. The guys in my crew are: Bill Kowalski, Lt. Schultz, Sgt. Marino and Sgt. Sanchez...and the bad guys, too, Mikey Fagen and Benny Vasquez.

I hope you enjoy it!

**Deadly Aim**

8:20 p.m.

Inside the MCU

Bobby stood, watching the monitors and tapping a pen on the desk. He was waiting for Det. Morris to get back to him with whatever information he was able to find on the Vasquez family.

Alex sauntered over and stood next to Bobby, "What'cha doin'?"

"I'm waiting to hear back from Morris," he sighed. "I was hoping to get some more information about the family– I can't wait any longer, though – not with the Captain's wife in there."

"And three other civilians," Alex reminded him. "Maybe we should give the Captain a call – update him."

"You can call him in a little while, after I'm inside."

"What!" Alex asked in exclamation. "You're not going in there!" Her protests were an impulsive reaction, borne of genuine concern for the safety of her partner. Schultz and his men saw right through her. While it was true that any cop would worry about his partner's safety – especially in a situation like this – it was the look in her eyes that gave it away. Bobby was more than just a partner to her.

"I'll be fine," he answered firmly, turning towards Schultz and Sanchez.

Alex was fuming. Bobby was doing it again– – giving her a dismissive answer and not letting her in on his plans– not very "partner-like" behavior and she made a mental note that the two of them would have a talk about it in the very near future.

"I plan on calling him back and offering myself in exchange for the hostages. I think there's a good chance he'll go for it, given our history."

Sanchez smirked as he asked, "With all due respect, Detective, don'tcha think that's like walking into your own execution? I mean, this guy –he has it out for ya'. " The Sergeant removed the wad of now flavorless gum from his cheek, tossed it in the trash and immediately unwrapped a new replacement piece. "Anybody want some? BubbleYum –Watermelon...it's the best!" he endorsed, while popping it into his mouth.

Alex tried to interject, but Bobby kept talking –leaving no leeway for her to get a word in edgewise. She was quickly growing frustrated and angry, but most of all, worried.

Bobby grabbed the phone, ready to dial the bank. He looked at Schultz and asked, "Your guys ready?"

"We're ready," he assured, looking Bobby in the eye, as Sanchez commented with a sly grin, "I was born ready." Bobby appreciated Sanchez' cocky attitude – he needed a guy that was sure of himself – and his capabilities – backing him up on this one.

Bobby dialed and Vasquez picked up on practically the first ring.

"Benny – ya' had enough time to think?" Bobby asked.

"Oh, I've been thinkin' all right – – been thinkin' for twelve long years about the shit you did to me and my family," he sneered.

"Well, I've been thinking, too, Benny. Who wants to go first? Me? Okay!" Bobby said, not giving Benny a chance to reply. "What we want, Benny, is for you to release the hostages. Then we can talk –make a deal." Bobby fully intended to offer himself in exchange for the hostages, but thought he'd give this approach try; why tip his hand early?.

"It ain't gonna' happen your way, Bobby," he tauntingly hissed. "I'll tell you my plan – so you shut up and listen!"

"Okay, Benny – go ahead and tell me your plan."

"I let three hostages go, and in their place, you come in."

Bobby smiled as he looked at Schultz and his men. He knew the way Benny thought. He knew there was no way that Benny would be able to resist the opportunity.

Inside the bank, Vasquez waiting anxiously for Goren's answer. He had already resigned himself to the fact that today was the day he was going to die, but not before he had the chance to see Goren face to face– before putting a bullet in his head and then turning the gun on himself. Benny thought he had it all worked out.

"All right, Benny. The woman and two of the men – and I come in." Bobby offered.

"No, you ain't callin' the shots, cop. I get rid of the three men – the woman stays. I'll stick to my theory, Bobby – she's worth more."

"C'mon Benny," Bobby pleaded, "None of those people ever did anything to you...why don'tcha let 'em go...they just wanna' get home to their families. This is between you and me now, isn't it?"

"No! You listen to me! If I don't see you and only you walking towards the front door, no weapons, hands in the air, in the next five minutes, I'm gonna' start offin' your precious hostages, one-by-one."

"Okay, okay! Benny, don't do that. I-I'm comin' ...just give me a minute...I'm comin' in and then we'll talk, okay?"

"Five minutes," Benny snarled and slammed down the receiver.

Bobby looked at Schultz; his head cocked – shoulders relaxing after releasing a long sigh, "This is it," he said, as he removed his holster. "I'm gonna' try to draw him to the front of the lobby, by the windows, so you can get a clean shot," he said to Sanchez. "You'd better get in position."

Sanchez grabbed his rifle, holding it up for everyone to see. "Check it out," he said, admiringly. "Top of the line – new Burris scope – just mounted it last month."

Alex stood by watching and listening. She was already angry with Bobby and growing more disenchanted with Sanchez by the minute. "How the hell can he be so cavalier at a time like this, with all these people's lives at stake?" she silently asked herself.

Schultz and Marino were used to Sanchez' demeanor but, for others who didn't know him well, he could be a little hard to take. Once you got used to his off-beat sense of humor, his macho BS and his over-enthusiasm for his line of work, he was an all-right guy – and there was no denying, the boy could shoot.

He squeezed past Bobby in the cramped MCU trailer and looked him in the eye. "I got your back, man."

Bobby nodded a "Thanks."

Alex watched as Sanchez bounded down the steps of the MCU trailer, retrieved a gold necklace from under his shirt, kissed the sparkling charm dangling from it for 'good luck' and tucked it back in against his chest, with a satisfied grin. "Oh great!" She thought, rolling her eyes. "The Captain's wife is being held hostage by a nut with a gun and a vendetta against my partner; my partner's on his way in to the middle of the mess and this idiot is relying on his lucky charm to get 'em all out of it!"

8:25 p.m.

Inside the Chase Manhattan Bank

Vasquez slammed down the phone and spun around towards the hostages. "You three," he yelled, pointing his gun at Dave Conroy and the other two men. "Get up!"

Dave looked to his side at Cathy Deakins. He didn't want to leave her behind, but wasn't about to endanger himself and the others any more, by not following the gunman's orders. He gave her a regretful look as he quickly slid the useless cell phone to its original hiding spot behind her back and shakily stood to his feet, following his fellow workers over to the center of the lobby, nearing the front door to the bank.

Vasquez checked his watch and glanced out the window, waiting to see the figure of Robert Goren appear. He could barely stand the anticipation of it.

8:26 p.m.

Inside the MCU

Bobby attempted to pass by Alex, who was standing near the doorway. Schultz and Marino turned their attention back to the monitors – even if they were only pretending to busy themselves in order to afford some 'privacy' to Bobby and Alex, the gesture was appreciated.

Bobby took Alex by the shoulders, hunching as he always did and dipping his head to look her in the eyes, "It'll be all right."

She looked at him. She knew that he knew what she was thinking. "I don't like this one bit, Bobby." She fought back the huge lump in her throat and the tears welling up in her eyes. Alex gave him a quick hug, whispering "please be careful," in his ear as he pulled away. He trotted down the steps of the MCU and turned back towards Alex. "Give the Captain a call and fill him in." She nodded and reached for her cell phone, as she heard Bobby's voice call her, once again. "Don't forget – we're still 'on' for pizza and beer once this is over!" She forced a smile, but couldn't force the thought from her mind that those might be the last words she'd ever hear her partner say. She blinked the teary blurriness from her eyes and began dialing the Captain.

8:27 p.m.

Continental Flight #1699 to NYC

On his insides, Deakins was growing more frantic with worry and fear than he'd ever outwardly let on to his friends. He couldn't resist the temptation for one second longer and grabbed for his cell phone– he needed to know what was going on back home. The instant he touched his phone, it began ringing.

"Deakins."

"Captain, it's Alex."

"What's happening Alex?" he asked, as Bill and Don looked on to overhear any news.

"The gunman, Vasquez – he's agreed to release three of the hostages..."

Deakins interrupted before Alex could finish her sentence. "Cathy?"

"No, sir," she sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Talk to me, Alex!"

"Vasquez thinks it gives him a better bargaining chip to have a female hostage, Captain. He's agreed to release the three male bank employees."

"Well, that's good. Maybe he can be reasoned with...maybe he'll let her go if we..."

Alex interrupted, this time. "Captain, Vasquez isn't releasing these guys outta' the goodness of his heart...he made a deal for 'em."

"What deal?" Deakins asked.

"The three hostages in exchange for Bobby," she answered.

"Oh geez...and Schultz is okay with that? Where's Goren? Put him on."

"Um, it's too late for that, Sir. Bobby's already at the door of the bank, on his way in. Vasquez gave him five minutes to go in or said he'd start executing the hostages."

Deakins rubbed a hand through his hair and over his tired eyes. "Keep me posted, Alex," he said, snapping his phone closed. He filled Bill and Don in on what was going on back in New York and sunk back into his seat. He checked his watch again, "Another hour and a half," he said to himself and let out a sigh. The captain continued thinking, "Three hostages safe, at least; but not Cathy...and now Bobby's goin' in. He tried to shake the negative thoughts from his mind, as he said a silent prayer for his wife's –and now Bobby's– safety. He, once again, recalled Bobby's words, 'I'm gonna' get her outta' there'. Deakins wanted nothing more than to believe it.

8:30 p.m.

Outside the Chase Manhattan Bank

Hands in the air, Bobby approached the front of the bank, trying to peer through the glass and quickly scan the lobby to ascertain Vasquez' and Cathy Deakins' whereabouts. He watched as the three male hostages approached, each of them slowly stepping into one of the segregated compartments of the revolving door and slowly pushing. When the first compartment emptied as the hostage exited the bank, jogging off to the safety behind the Police barricades, Bobby entered. The spinning momentum of the door continued, as the two remaining hostages slowly pushed their way to freedom and safety. Another half turn and Bobby was inside.

8:30 p.m.

Inside the Chase Manhattan Bank

Cathy Deakins sat, frozen. She couldn't let on that she knew Bobby – that would be bad for both of them, but just the sight of him gave her some comfort. If he was half as amazing and capable as her husband's dinner-time stories made him out to be, she felt she had a better than average chance of getting out of the bank alive.

"Stop right there!" Vasquez commanded. Bobby froze, hands still in the air. "Look, Benny, hands up, no weapon, just like you said," Bobby said, trying to appease him by his show of compliance.

Vasquez took a few steps forward, carefully avoiding illumination from the small overhead spotlight.

Bobby spoke, his head oscillating between Benny and Mrs. Deakins, "Ma'am, my name is Detective Robert Goren. I'm here to try to help you get out of this situation saf..."

Vasquez yelled, cutting Bobby off, "She knows why you're here! ... I know why you're here! ...it's 'cause you always have to be the God damn hero! "So, hero," he said with a mocking sneer, "first things first; lose the vest."

Benny took a few more steps, closing in on Bobby, gun aimed at the middle of his chest.

"I'll lose the vest, Benny, if I can give it to her," Bobby offered, tossing his head in Cathy's direction.

"You're not making the rules here, Goren! I am!" Benny shouted. He inched closer, perspiring, his breathing rapid, once again ignoring the sickening squish of the plastic on the guard's coagulated blood. He stood staring into the face of the man he hadn't seen in twelve years – the man who had lied to and deceived him; betrayed him and, worst of all, robbed him of his family.

The words came from his snarled lips, like venom, "That vest ain't gonna' do jack shit for you, cop, when I put a bullet in your head!"

8:36 p.m.

Inside the MCU

Alex flipped her cell phone closed. Morris hadn't dug up much news on the Vasquez family –or so he told her. She joined Lt. Schultz and Sgt. Marino by the console, watching the monitors. She saw Bobby in the foreground, standing about 8 feet away from the plastic-covered body of the dead guard.

Schultz' voice broke the silence, as he radioed, "Command to Sniper One. Confirm position."

Sanchez' voice answered, "Sniper One, in position."

"Command to Sniper One. You have the green light, Sniper One. You see your mark, you hit it –clean."

"Sniper One to Command. Roger that."

Schultz turned in his chair and looked at Alex. "He's our best shooter, Detective...and I sure as hell don't want Captain Deakins' old lady killed on my watch."

Alex nodded, silently, watching Bobby on the monitors and praying.

8:37 p.m.

Chase Manhattan Plaza - Store rooftop across the street from the Chase Manhattan Bank.

Sgt. Darius Sanchez laid in wait; his right eye fixed to the sight of his high-powered scope, finger lightly on the trigger. His breathing was calm –rhythmic and steady. The only thing steadier was his aim.

END Chapt. 7.


	8. Happy Endingsalmost

1**Happy Endings...almost**

8:38 p.m.

Inside the S.W.A.T. MCU

Schultz, Marino and Alex continued watching the monitors. Bobby was still in view, his hands now lowered. He was talking and, Schultz surmised, whatever Bobby was saying was not calming Vasquez but, rather, antagonizing him. Vasquez' gun-wielding hand and arm had come into the view of the tellers' cameras. Schultz was, once again, on the radio.

"Command to Sniper One."

"Sniper One - check."

"Sniper One, do you have the target in sight?"

"Sniper One to Command - that's a negative. Target's arm is visible, but his body is being blocked by a marble pillar."

Schultz turned to Alex, "Goren's gotta draw him out into view," he said and quickly turned his attention back to the radio and Sanchez.

"Copy that, Sniper One. Stay on your ready-go. Command out."

All of their eyes were still glued to the actions inside the bank. Schultz and Marino couldn't afford to let their attention stray for even a split second, at this critical point. They watched in silence; Bobby's mouth and hands moving; Vasquez' arm only slightly wavering, with his gun aimed at Bobby.

Alex saw something and blurted out, "He needs help - he needs a diversion."

Schultz asked in rapid succession, "What do you mean? How do you know?"

"His body language," Alex quickly replied. He's getting frustrated. Whatever he's saying to Vasquez must not be working – Vasquez won't bite."

Marino spoke, "But how do you know? We can't hear what's going on."

Alex's had a hint of panic in her voice, "Look, he's been my partner for five years!" she snapped. (She held back her full reasoning, fearful that Schultz and Marino would've thought she was crazy, but when she saw Bobby's movements – the head tilted, rolled to his shoulder, palms facing up; the way he shifted his weight from one leg to the other, that was the "Bobby Goren Frustration Dance" –his clue to her –voluntary or not- that he needed a diversion; he needed Alex to intercede with some type of distraction to give him a few extra seconds to think or act. She'd witnessed it and dutifully performed her part during many an interrogation).

Schultz asked, "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," she answered confidently.

"Call inside," Schultz instructed Marino. Marino dialed the bank; still not convinced it was the right move.

8:43 p.m.

Inside the Chase Manhattan Bank

The shrill ring of the phone startled them all. Vasquez took a step back, lowering his aim at Bobby. Cathy's face relaxed, as she breathed a sigh of relief. She thought for the past couple of minutes that she was going to see Bobby executed right before her eyes. Bobby was thankful for the interruption. If Vasquez' tirade against him had been allowed to escalate, Bobby was sure that Vasquez would have pulled the trigger. He glanced at the phone, then back at Benny, as Benny walked backwards, over to Dave Conroy's desk and picked up the receiver.

"What do you want?" he screamed.

Schultz had to think– fast. "Benny? Listen, we have a lady out here – she's the sister of the woman you're holding – her name is Alex. She's hysterical, Benny. We just want to help her calm down. She's beggin' us Benny, please, just let her hear her sister's voice – it's all the family she's got."

The three in the MCU waited for a response. Benny was momentarily silent. He was thinking. He knew what it felt like to have no family left. He sympathized with the woman and then he remembered the act of civility that Cathy had shown him earlier in the day. How she'd been kind to him, treated him humanely – even with respect, calling him 'sir.' This was an opportunity for him to return the favor – to prove to the copes and to himself that he still had a shred of decency left. He turned towards Cathy, holding up the receiver.

"The cops want you on the phone," he said, his eyes shifting back and forth between Bobby and Cathy. "They have your sister outside – she's worried." He gestured with the received again, saying "here, talk to her."

Cathy stood and slowly walked towards Vasquez. At the half-way point, she almost froze in panic – her nerves had gotten the better of her and she had forgotten about the cell phone behind her back – it now laid in plain sight on the floor. Her only hope was that Vasquez was too distracted by the matters at hand to notice. She finished walking the last few steps towards him, hoping her face hadn't revealed anything. As she took the received, she said "thank you." Cathy didn't have any idea was Vasquez was talking about, but was quick to play along. Vasquez stepped away – his back towards Cathy, eyes fixed on Bobby. Benny though he could trust her.

8:47 p.m.

Inside the MCU

Schultz passed the phone to Alex –just in case Vasquez was listening, they wanted to make sure a female voice was on the line. Cathy's voice came over the phone.

"Hello?"

"Cathy, it's Alex. I'm so worried. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Alex."

(Inside, Bobby's ears perked up at the mention of Alex's name. He thought to himself, realizing that the call which had successfully diffused the situation between him and Benny a few minutes ago probably wasn't a coincidence. "That's my girl," he proudly thought to himself.)

Cathy continued speaking into the phone. "It'll be all right. Don't worry, okay?"

Vasquez' back was still towards Cathy. She wondered if this was the opportunity – the right time to take the chance of getting the guard's gun from the bottom drawer. She continued calmly talking to Alex.

"Really, I'm okay. He hasn't treated me badly and..."

The scream from Vasquez startled her. She froze, as Vasquez stormed over to her, grabbing the phone, his elbow shoving her out of the way. "Sorry sis – she's not gonna' be so fine any more!" he screamed and slammed down the receiver.

8:50 p.m.

Inside the MCU

Alex handed the phone back to Marino to hang up. "Something really pissed him off," she said. "I don't know what happened in there, but she's in trouble. He said 'she's not gonna' be so fine any more'."

Bobby was still in view. Vasquez and Cathy could not be seen.

"Are you sure Sanchez is ready?" Alex asked.

"He has the green light. He'll take his shot first change he gets," Schultz assured her. "We may be running out of time, though– we may have to change the plan – use the tear gas, send in the full assault team and take our chances." Schultz' face looked grim – as grim as the situation had just turned.

8:51 p.m.

Inside the Chase Manhattan Bank

Vasquez grabbed Cathy by the arm, roughly, and dragged her over to the back wall where she had been sitting. He bent and picked up the cell phone, shaking it in her face and screaming, "This is yours? You've been hiding this all day! You call 9-1-1 – trying to be a hero, too?" He kept yelling at her the entire time, as he pulled her by the arm, dragging her over to where Bobby stood. "You know what happened to the all other heroes today!" he screamed, as he flung her, throwing her off balance, sending her crashing into bobby's arm.

Vasquez was screaming, standing inches away from her face. "You bitch! You're just like them – pretending to be my friend while you're stabbing me in the back!" He shot a vicious look at Bobby. Vasquez backed up a couple of paces, taking aim at Bobby.

"I've been waiting twelve longs years to put a bullet in you..."

(Simultaneously - Bobby's POV)

Bobby knew he had only a split second to act. He had seen the look in Vasquez' eyes before and knew he was ready to shoot. He rotated his body to the left, covering Cathy with his massive frame, which was made larger and heavier by the vest which, thankfully, he hadn't removed. He used all the force of his momentum, sending Cathy crashing backward, down to the floor, has he shielded her entire body and head with his own.

Almost at the instant that Bobby decided to make his move and turned his body towards Cathy, he had heard the "pop" of the sniper's bullet piercing the window, the whirring sound. He knew the sniper had gotten his shot off. He stayed, laying still, on top of Cathy. He could barely breath from the "rush" – she could barely breath from his weight on her torso. All was quiet. He turned and looked over his right shoulder, finding what he suspected he would. The sniper's bullet had hit its mark. Vasquez laid dead at their feet. Bobby raised himself off Cathy and took great care to point her towards the front door, shielding her eyes from the sight of Vasquez – the gore of the blood and brain matter that surrounded his head – or what was left of it.

(Simultaneously - MCU's POV)

"C'mon, Sanchez," Schultz urged, under his breath. They had been watching the actions on the monitors. Vasquez appeared furious – out of control, but at least he was now in plain sight. In the next instant, they heard the shot – the thud of the bullet from Sanchez' high-powered rifle penetrating the thick glass of the bank's window – and watched as Vasquez dropped to the floor.

"Sniper One to Command. Target down," Sanchez flatly stated.

"Roger that, Sniper One. Good job."

Alex rushed from the MCU to greet Bobby and Cathy as they exited the bank. Police personnel had swarmed into the bank to deal with the carnage and gather evidence.

8:54 p.m.

Chase Manhattan Plaza - Outside the Bank

Alex had sprinted over to Bobby and Mrs. Deakins. "You okay?" she asked, catching her breath. They shook their heads, "yes." "Thanks to Bobby," Cathy added, once arm still around his waist, the other hand patting his stomach. She let go over her hold and Alex gave Bobby a hand as he removed his vest.

"You were pretty brave in there," Bobby said to Cathy. "You knew where the guard's gun was, didn't you?"

She nodded. "Yeah, when Vasquez shot the guard, it went flying out of the guard's hand and landed right by me feet. I picked it up quicky and hid it in Dave's desk." (Bobby had figured that Benny was lying about not killing the guard, so he tried to pin it on dead Mikey, just to avoid another charge for killing a federal cop).

"It's a good think you didn't try to use it," Bobby said.

"I almost did – but I got too scared – and that's when he went crazy over my cell phone," Cathy answered.

Bobby had his arm around Cathy's shoulders. He walked her over to the MCU and led her inside for a short debriefing with Lt. Schultz. Bobby descended the steps to rejoin Alex. She smiled, "You sure you're all right?"

"Yeah," he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his forearm, as Alex handed him a bottle of cold water. "Thanks," he said, and chugged it down. "So, how'd ya' know?" he asked her.

Alex's eyes widened, "Know what?"

"That I needed help - a diversion."

"Oh that," she shrugged, "Partner's intuition, I guess," she said.

Bobby settled for that answer, for now.

Sanchez approached the MCU with a big grin, still chomping away on his gum. Bobby smiled as soon as he saw him – still several yards away and walking with a swagger that seemed to announce to everyone, "Yeah, I'm the man." Sanchez was confident and cocky – and Goren liked him.

"Nice job," Bobby said, extending his hand to shake.

"Thanks, man," Sanchez replied and smiled. "I got scared for a second when I saw the two of you go down."

Alex teased, "You got scared?"

Sanchez smiled and shrugged. He understood the humor of her barb.

"Vasquez was ready to pull the trigger. I just knocked down Mrs. Deakins to protect her," Bobby stated.

"How is she? Where is she?" Sanchez asked.

Bobby motioned with his thumb, "Inside with Schultz, debriefing."

Sanchez turned to enter the MCU and heard Bobby's voice call, "Hey, lemme' buy ya' a drink!"

The Sergeant turned and exaggerated a frown, "I don't get off 'til 11."

"That works!" Bobby said. "Alex and I are going for pizza and beer – why don't you join us at Carucci's when you get off?"

"Are you serious?" Alex asked in disbelief. "Haven't you had enough excitement for one night? You should go home to bed."

Bobby scowled at her, his brow furrowed. "Look, by the time we drive the Captain's wife to the airport to meet the Captain's plane, we can head back downtown and we'll be just getting to Carucci's at around 11."

"Sounds good to me," Sanchez replied, while popping a huge bubble. He ascended another step and turned, "Wait!" Bobby and Alex looked up at him. "You buyin'?"

Bobby nodded and laughed, "Sure – it's on me."

Alex looked up at Bobby. The Captain's gotta' be worried sick. I'm gonna' call him," she said, flipping her phone open.

9:12 p.m.

Continental Flight 1699 to NY

Bill and Don had been talking to Jimmy, keeping him calm, keeping his hopes up, while trying to make the long flight pass more quickly. They knew that the minute the plan landed, a Police escort would be there to whisk Deakins back to the City so he could join Schultz in the MCU and be near his wife. When his phone rang, he was both anxious and afraid to answer. He looked at the screen – it was Alex's number calling in.

"Deakins."

"Captain, it's Alex. She's out. She's okay."

Bill and Don watched as Jimmy sank into his chair, with a sigh of relief. "Thank God. When did it happen?"

His friends overheard the "thank God" and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Around 15 minutes ago – – sorry we didn't call earlier; it's pretty hectic here," she said apologetically.

"That's okay, Alex. Where's Goren?"

"He's right here, Sir; he's okay, too."

"Put him on, please, Alex."

She handed the phone to Bobby.

"Captain," Bobby said, smiling.

"Bobby - I don't know what to say – – thank you."

"You're welcome. Umm, Captain, Alex and I are gonna' get Mrs. Deakins to the airport to meet your plane."

"Thanks, Bobby. Good job." Deakins closed the phone and smiled. "They got her out. She's all right."

Jimmy Deakins could now truly relax in his seat for the first time in hours. He offered a silent "thank you" prayer and thought about how much he loved his wife, as he swiped at the tear rolling down his cheek. He hoped Kowalski hadn't seen – he'd never hear the end of it.

9:20 p.m.

Chase Manhattan Plaza

Bobby took Alex aside to talk privately. "I want you to drive Mrs. Deakins to the airport. I'll follow in their car – that way, they'll have their car right there to drive home and we can head back to Carucci's."

"That the only reason?" Alex asked, skeptically. She could read her partner's face.

"After the two tellers were killed, that left Cathy s the only woman in there..."

Alex quickly caught on. "You think Vasquez assaulted her?"

Bobby shrugged, "I dunno', it's ju-just in case, so you can be alone on the drive to the airport — in case there's anything she'd rather talk to a woman about. You worked vice long enough – you'd be able to tell, right?"

Alex nodded.

Bobby touched her upper arm, "I've gotta' go back in the bank and get her pocketbook and the keys to their car."

Alex joined up with Cathy Deakins and headed for the airport.

10:00 p.m.

JFK Airport - Gate 44

Cathy Deakins, Bobby and Alex waited anxiously for the arrival of Jimmy's flight. They watched through the window as the plane slowly pulled into the Gate and the ground crew went into action. Having been seated in First Class, Jimmy, Bill and Don were the first passengers to come up the long ramp of the jet way. Jimmy saw his wife, flanked by Bobby and Alex, and jogged to meet her. She ran into his arms and they kissed and embraced, not wanting to let go of each other.

"Thank God you're safe," he whispered in her ear, planting kisses on her head, ear and neck and trying to hold her even closer. "I love you so much."

"I love you," she said, kissing his neck "I'm so sorry I ruined your trip," she laughed.

Bobby and Alex, Bill and Don looked on, admiring the couple and their happy, loving display of affection. Cathy finally broke their embrace and turned, smiling at Bobby and Alex and they walked towards them.

"Bobby," the Captain said, holding out his arms and pulling him into a back-patting hug. "Thank you."

"That's all right Captain. I'm just glad she's all right," Bobby said, his eyes making contact with Alex's, seeking affirmation of his comment. Alex nodded and smiled. (Nothing of that nature had happened to Cathy Deakins during her captivity).

"What do you say we go home?" She asked, smiling up at her husband.

"That sounds perfect to me," Jimmy said. "...and if I remember correctly, we have the house to ourselves," he smiled. Cathy squeezed his side, tickling him, "You devil," she said teasingly.

Jimmy stopped in his tracks and turned to Bill and Don. "Fellas – I'm sorry your trip is ruined."

Kowalski turned to Cragen, "I don't know about you, but I don't have to be back at work 'til next Wednesday. I'm going to the ticket counter to see when the next flight out is."

"You aren't serious," Don asked.

"What!" Bill exclaimed. "We've still got four good days ahead of us. You with me, or not?"

Don shook his head. "I must be crazy – I'm in."

"Atta' boy!" Bill cheered, grabbing Don around the shoulders. They each shook Jimmy's hand and gave Cathy a hug. "See ya' when I get back," Bill said.

Bill and Don turned and began their walk through the terminal, back to the ticket counter. Bill's booming voice could still be heard; "Don't look so down Donny – this is great for our frequent flier miles!" Don shrugged his shoulders, chuckling to himself. That was Kowalski – always seeing the bright side.

Bobby and Alex, Jimmy and Cathy, began walking to the exit for the parking lot. Bobby handed the Captain the keys to his car. Cathy turned to her husband, suddenly, "Jimmy, what about your luggage?"

"Who knows?" he laughed. "It'll probably turn up in Amarillo again." The four of them laughed and parted ways.

11:00 p.m.

Carucci's Bar and Restaurant

Carucci's was filled with the usual Friday night crowd – a good portion of them Cops. Det. Morris was sitting at the bar with a couple of the guys, when he saw Bobby and Alex enter. He watched as they made their way back to "their table" and settled in. He told the bartender to send them a couple of drinks, "on him."

Sanchez entered about 15 minutes later and Bobby waved him to the back. The three of them had a couple of drinks while waiting for their food. The had ordered appetizers, in addition to their pizza. Alex took note, as Sanchez grew funnier and more animated with each gulp of his drink. She found herself liking him more – "Well, maybe not liking him," she thought to herself, "just tolerating him better." She decided it was a side effect of the liquor, as she took another sip of her apple martini.

The three of them talked and laughed over their drinks and food, sharing their craziest stories from their experiences on the job.

"So, Sanchez," Alex asked, "Was that just a lucky shot tonight?"

He look at her incredulously, "Lucky shot?" he laughed, "That was all skill and finesse, my dear lady," he joked –but she knew he really wasn't joking.

"I don't know about that," Alex continued teasing him, "I saw you kissing your lucky charm before you went up to the roof."

Bobby looked on in amusement. He didn't know what Alex as talking about, but it was getting a rise out of Sanchez, so he was having fun.

Sanchez dug under his collar, retrieving the gold chain and charm, holding it up for Bobby and Alex to see. They both looked at it, an intricately entwined "DOS", squinting through the haze of their "buzz" and read aloud: "D O S."

Bobby asked, "Your initials?"

Sanchez nodded affirmatively.

"My middle initial is "O" too!" Bobby said. "That's pretty uncommon, I think. What's it stand for?" He asked with interest.

"Olando," he replied.

Alex repeated, "Orlando? That's nice."

"No," Sanchez shook his head. There's no "R" – it's Olando. His slight Spanish accent had now been exaggerated by his beer, as he over-pronounced it, saying it more like "Oh-laaaando." He grinned and took another drink of his beer, leaning over the table, still dangling the charm for them to see. "Check it out, man – you didn't see the best part!"

Bobby and Alex leaned in for a closer look. Bobby's eyes lit up, "That is cool," he said with true admiration for the piece of jewelry, nodding towards Alex to get her agreement.

"The 'O'," Sanchez explained, "for my middle initial isn't just an "O" – I had it specially designed to look like the sniper's cross-hairs (the + in the middle of the circle).

The "O"and the "+" in the center was filled with small diamonds, except for four empty places waiting to be filled.

Bobby looked harder, counting, "there's four empty spaces."

"Not after tonight, man," Sanchez said, totally amused with himself. "Tomorrow, I go to the jeweler and have one more diamond put in. Each one of the diamonds represents a scumbag I've taken out," he said, nodding his head up and down, not even attempting to hide the pride of his expertise.

Back over at the bar, Morris ordered another drink. He didn't normally have three rounds, but tonight – – well, tonight was different. He had debated with himself for most of the evening but was now happy with his decision, as he watched Bobby eat, drink and laugh with Sanchez and Alex, thoroughly enjoying himself. After all, with what Bobby had been through today, didn't he deserve to unwind and have some fun tonight – and be able to enjoy his weekend? That's what Morris had convinced himself of, anyway. He had wished he hadn't done his detective work so diligently; that's why he had decided to leave the sealed envelope, marked "confidential" in Bobby's top drawer. He'd find it Monday morning. That would be soon enough.

Morris didn't know the right words to say to him, anyway. How DO you tell a man that he has an 11 year old son he's never met.

THE END.

**A/N: Thanks Readers and especially Reviewers. Your feedback will guide my decision as to whether to write the sequel regarding Bobby's search for his son. Your comments about my original characters would be appreciated, too, so I'll have an indication as to whether or not to include them in future stories. I hope y'all enjoyed this one! Thank you!**


End file.
